Kirstie

After 883 A. D. Trondelag, Norway

Kairos 104 Lady Kristina of Strindlos

Early in the 870s, a Norwegian chieftain by the name of Harald Fairhair defeated his enemies at sea and proclaimed himself King of Norway. Asserting his claim on land was not quite so easy. Eventually, the chiefs and petty kings who refused to submit, or simply did not like the man who would be king, were killed or driven out and sent into exile. Many emigrated to Danelaw or took refuge in the island ruled by the Angles and Saxons, or the Island kingdoms of the North Sea. Norsemen by the boatload fled to the north coast of France, and in such numbers the coast would one day be called Normandy or the land of the Norse. Plenty fled over the mountains to Jamtaland, and while that came back to haunt Kirstie’s village when she was young, some strange and some ordinary things happened first.

Three young men fought for Fairhair aboard the ship of Captain Birger of Strindlos in the fjord called Trondelag. They were Haken, Thorbald, and Arne the Navigator. Haken was pledged to a woman in Strindlos and after the war, he settled down to his farm and in 881 they had a daughter, Hilda. Arne brought home a wife Helga, from a trading expedition among the Swedes. She was a lovely woman and eighteen months after Hilda was born, in 883, Arne and Helga had a daughter that Helga, a secret Christian, named Kristina. They called her Kirstie. Two years later, Thorbald came back from a journey to Northumbria with a wife and baby girl named Liv. The men were disappointed at all having daughters instead of sons, but they loved their daughters well.

Yasmina

After 914 A. D. The Hejaz and North Africa

Kairos 105 Yasmina, Princess of Mecca and Medina

Curiously, at the exact same time Kirstie was born, another girl was born. It happened thirty-one years later and on a different day in a different month, but it was at the exact same time as far as the babies were concerned, as odd as that sounds.

Two men marched into the audience hall at the same time. One was a bearded warrior, well built, dressed in a fine uniform, a sword at his side. The other was a blubbery mess in a diaper and covered in sweat that his toga or big towel could not hide. They were both eunuchs come from the harem, but like night and day to look at them.

The soldier said, “My lord,” when he stepped up to the throne. He tipped his head like something between a bow and a salute. The Lord and the men he conversed with stopped talking to hear what the soldier had to say. The soldier smiled and nudged the man at his feet with his foot. The blubbery men who had prostrated himself lifted his head from the floor and spoke.

“Your blessed wife has delivered a child, a girl, you have a daughter. Your most fair wife has instructed me to remind you of your promise. I do not know what that may be, but your blessed wife seeks a name for the child. I was sent to ask that I may bear the name to her. I am yours to command.” He returned his face to the floor and shivered a little, not that he was cold in the ninety-degree heat and all that fat, but because he feared his Lord’s anger at not having a son.

The Lord of Mecca and Medina who ruled the Hijaz in the Caliph’s name smiled ever so slightly. “Tell my wife the child’s name shall be Yasmina, as we agreed. Perhaps next time she will have the good sense to have a son.”

“My lord,” the blubbery one said. He got slowly to his feet while he bowed and bowed. He backed out of the room before he turned and ran without ever looking up. The lord paid him no mind as he turned to the soldier.

“Captain Muhammad al-Rahim, my old friend and mentor. Now you have a princess to guard. Keep her safe above all.”

“My lord.” The soldier offered a full, formal bow, turned, and marched back to the harem.

Kirstie

Of course, neither baby had a conscious thought about each other, but in the back of their infant minds there seemed to be some kind of connection. Kirstie dreamed about Yasmina now and then, even about being Yasmina in a very strange and different world, but they were only dreams, weren’t they? She did sometimes wonder if maybe they were something more.

Kirstie and Hilda became best friends, and when older, Liv joined the group. Kirstie and Hilda sometimes treated Liv like a tag-along, but they were never mean to the girl, it is just that nearly four years difference between Hilda and Liv made it hard when they were growing and changing from girls to young women. Kirstie often had to mediate between the two, and Liv’s generally bad attitude did not help. Still, they did plenty of things together, and not just for the friendship of their fathers. In truth, Strindlos was a small village and there were not many options for friends.

One of the ordinary events happened when Kirstie’s mother had a son. The boy was born in 885, about the time Thorbald brought home his wife and daughter, but the boy died in his first winter. An all-too-common occurrence. A baby sister got born in 890, but by then, seven-year-old Kirstie was making her own way in the world. Her best friend Hilda was nearly nine, as Hilda said. “Nearly nine.”

Kirstie’s babysitter, or the equivalent in that day, was the orphan girl Inga. Mother needed the teenager to help when she had her son and then lost her son. That was a hard time for her. She needed the teenager again to watch Kirstie when she had another daughter because Arne was away guiding his ship and Kirstie was still too young to be left on her own. Inga did not mind, and it gave Mother a chance to slip the orphan girl a few coins, so it worked out.

Inga spent most of her time studying with Mother Vrya. Mother Vrya was the gray-haired Volve and village Skald, that is, the wise woman and storyteller. She was the old wife who told the proverbial old wives’ tales, and generally acted as the village pharmacist, healer, and all-around fountain of knowledge and wisdom, consulted by chiefs up and down the fjord which at least brought the occasional ship to Strindlos.

Kirstie got to sit in on some of Inga’s learning sessions and found Mother Vrya’s teaching fascinating. She also showed remarkable and sometimes spooky insight into many things she should not have known about. She claimed it was the good Doctor Mishka and Mother Greta from Dacia who told her about these things. Of course, she could not exactly explain who those women were because at age seven, eight, and nine she did not understand it herself. About the best she could do was say those women were in her heart along with her dream girl, Yasmina. At the same time, she said she was not a Volve, and she did not want to become one of the Skald. Her poetry was terrible. Kirstie said she would probably become a Shield Maiden and there was not anything they could do about it.